


breathe

by agotdamnclown



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: (that's a tag now everyone be quiet), ...yet, ADHD Character, Autistic Donnie, Crying, Family Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Post-Episode: s02e01 Many Unhappy Returns, based on a tumblr prompt, donnie gets a hug, mikey has adhd but i dont put AS much emphasis on it, raph and leo are mentioned but don't speak, this got so fucking out of hand y'all have no idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:13:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24209518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agotdamnclown/pseuds/agotdamnclown
Summary: Still… It isn’t any less frightening than the last few times. ‘Breathe, dumb-dumb. Shredder’s gone, remember?’ Of course he remembers. That’s the whole problem in the first place. If it was as simple as ‘remember the bad thing isn’t true and it will go away tomorrow,’ this whole thing wouldn’t be happening. If only…--an early morning search for safety becomes something only slightly unexpected
Relationships: Donatello & Michelangelo (TMNT)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 124





	breathe

**Author's Note:**

> good evening ladies i've been working on this since the beginning of april and. i'm pretty happy with it so enjoy uwu

It’s the third one he’s had in a little under 2 weeks, and yet he still nearly falls out of bed, scrambling to get away from a threat that isn’t there. Looking, looking looking looking but he still finds nothing. After all, how can you logically find a threat that may as well not exist anymore?

Still… It isn’t any less frightening than the last few times. ‘ _ Breathe, dumb-dumb. Shredder’s gone, remember?’  _ Of  _ course _ he remembers. That’s the whole problem in the first place. If it was as simple as ‘remember the bad thing isn’t true and it will go away tomorrow,’ this whole thing wouldn’t be happening. If only…

Right. Do something about said nightmare. Right. 

_ ‘It’s funny,’  _ he thinks to himself, throwing off the weighted and far too warm blanket and grabbing his hoodie from the end of the bed to slip on, ‘ _ how annoying near-traumatic experiences can be in the long run.’  _ He’d like nothing more than to just go back to bed but, as much as he wants to think otherwise, he’s still shaken from his most recent dream. And, despite how embarrassed he knows he’ll feel about this in the morning, he wants some company.

So he goes in search of a comforting presence, away from his almost pitch black room with the shadows that seem bigger and sharper than normal. The cool air of the atrium is biting as he steps out, with the pale autumn moonlight shimmering down from the boarded ceiling. He’s been out in this room around this time of night multiple times, but rarely because of nightmares.

When he pulls aside the curtain to Leo’s room, he expects to find his younger brother still awake, maybe scrolling on his social or watching a movie or even just staring at the ceiling. Instead, Donnie finds him on his bed, upper body slouched in an uncomfortable-looking position, shoulders and chest heaving with quiet snores.

_ ‘Wow. That… looks horribly uncomfortable. Wow,’  _ He decides to suspend his disbelief for the time being and, with a quiet yet fond sigh, gently pulls Leo forward until his body is in a proper resting position against the mattress, and lays the discarded comforter over his shoulders.  _ ‘Just so you don’t wake up freezing. Honestly, you probably have a hidden AC in here or something,’  _ He inwardly muses as he steps out of the room. 

Raph’s room is brighter than Leo’s, but not by much. Only lit with a small, star-shaped night light in the corner; Raph never was completely comfortable in the dark, it seemed. Peeking into the room reveals Donnie’s older brother also fast asleep. He sighs in slight exasperation; he’s definitely too old to be running to his big brother after a bad dream. But then, why would going to either of his younger brothers be any different? 

It’s a weird question, and he’s just about to begin pondering it when he notices something discarded on the ground next to Raph’s bed: an old, slightly ratty stuffed bunny that Splinter had found on one of his earlier expeditions. He files the question in the back of his head - something to ponder the next time he tries to sleep - and places the stuffy into Raph’s pillowed arms, immediately becoming unreachable as the older turtle hugs it close with a faint smile. Donnie returns the smile as he exits the room, back into the creeping darkness and strange inner monologues that always came during two in the morning.

Yeah. it is weird; he’s definitely too old to be going to Raph after a bad dream.  _ ‘Or  _ any  _ of them, for that matter,’  _ he reminds himself. It seemed there wasn’t a difference between doing it at age 5 and age 14; expressing personal emotions with the ones you love is  _ embarrassing.  _ He was different from his brothers, different in ways hard to describe without sounding inane, and maybe that had something to do with it but dammit if he hated making excuses for his own shortcomings-

He pauses in his stride, gauging whether it would be more effective to just go back to his room and pretend this didn’t happen. No one needed to be bothered with his dumb dream about dumb Shredder and his dumb tech.  _ Dumb dumb dumb.  _ Even still, looking back at his doorway, at the long shadows cast from seemingly nowhere… Yeah, maybe he’d like to be around someone right now. Even if it means falling asleep next to Splinter in the TV room.

Mikey’s room is faintly lit, but it’s expected with the fairy lights the young turtle keeps on most of the time. Not unlike Raph’s night light, but less about fear and more about comfort. Mikey enjoyed being able to easily tell what was around him. With that, Donnie is expecting - and maybe hoping - that his younger brother is peacefully sleeping. What he isn’t expecting is a blanketed lump sitting in the middle of the room, the underside illuminated with a brighter light.

He pauses, before slowly but firmly knocking on the rim of the doorway in a rhythmic pattern. The blanket lifts up, and Mikey’s unmasked face pokes out from under it and widens into a big smile at the sight of his brother. “Hey, Dee! What’s shakin’?” Reaching his hand out, he pulls the blanket off, revealing a big sketchbook sitting in Mikey’s lap, a pencil clutched in his other hand, and his phone’s flashlight shining on both. He turns back to continue sketching, and Donnie feels instant discomfort, instinctively pulling his hood farther over his maskless head.

Nevertheless, he strolls in a bit further, in a manner far more casual than he feels. “Oh, you know. Teenage rebellion-esque 2 AM escapades. The ushe.” Mikey snorts, clearly different from being yelled at and/or told to leave, so Donnie takes it as his cue to enter with little hesitance. As instinctual as it is to be wary and self-conscious, his little brother has always had a calming air around him, one that says  _ ‘I’m just here for a good time.’  _ Sometimes Don wonders what it is with both his younger brothers and being so… smart. Smart in ways he can’t always comprehend, different from textbook problems and tanks and weaponized metal. He’s almost jealous. Almost.

Maybe a little.

He crosses over to where Mikey is in the middle of the room and sits down, tucking both legs under himself and lightly thumping his foot to a familiar tune as he glances around the room quietly. His brother hums a similar tune as he lightly sketches onto the pad, occasionally blowing huffs of air to clear eraser shavings off. He’s calm, clearly, and most of his attention is focused on his drawing. Upon closer examination, it looks to be some kind of fluffy cat. Maybe it’s the one that Donnie’s been seeing around the lair recently.

Don takes multiple deeper-than-usual breaths, constantly bracing himself to say something potentially humiliating, but Mikey beats him to it. “Did you have another nightmare?” His tone has shifted from previously - and clearly - happy for the company, to some kind of calm knowingness that manages to both calm him and put him on edge.

And of course,  _ of course  _ his little brother is a damn mind reader. Donnie can’t make himself feel frustrated, though. Just relief. Which is weird, because  _ why  _ is he relieved that Mikey knows about his slightly recurring nightmares?

The reason hits him rather quickly: In his experience, starting the conversation usually isn’t his forte, and it would have to be ten-fold when it comes to something as personal as this. But then, it is still weird that he specifically said ‘another.’  _ ‘On god, if he knows about the other two I WILL cry-’ _

He coughs exaggeratedly, eliciting a bark of laughter from Mikey. Don cuts himself off quickly after because  _ fuck dramatic flair this is supposed to be serious,  _ “Okay, first of all,  _ fuck you  _ for guessing perfectly first try. And-” Mikey laughs harder and he can’t help but chuckle a little too, “and second of all, what do you mean ‘another’?”

His brother is still laughing, and it takes a few seconds for him to evolve into giggling before he tries to respond, “Okay, okay okay okay, hold on-” He takes a few almost comically deep breaths, “Don’t take this wrongly but I. Kinda  _ heard  _ you? The last time you had one.” He taps his fingers together, head slightly tucked into his shell like he’s expecting Donnie to get mad, or…  _ something.  _

Of course, he would almost feel insulted that Mikey would think he’d get mad at him, but the feeling is quickly overshadowed by the relief of  _ oh thank god he only thought there was one other, bless,  _ which is  _ then _ overshadowed by the quick realization that he didn’t remember ever making any kind of sound-

Wait. Yeah he did.

Shit.

It must show on his face, because Mikey quickly backtracks, shaking his hands a little, “I mean it wasn’t like- like a  _ scream  _ or anything, y’know? More like a…  _ ‘oh no i left my dark matter accelerator in the oven’  _ kinda deal-”

“Okay  _ first of all _ , I won’t even ask what makes you think that’s a possibility, just know that the feeling is up there. And…” Don pulls his hood off and rubs his eyes with a tired sigh, “I was…  _ more worried that you’d heard me in the first place?”  _ The last bit comes out in a quick mutter, partially hoping the other won’t hear him.

But of  _ course _ , it seems as if Mikey’s been practicing with his  _ ‘be the smartest bitch in this room (but mostly when it comes to feelings and stuff)’  _ skills, and heard every word. As if he needed to do anything else with his free time. Donnie was beginning to berate himself for coming in here in the first place when his brother speaks up, “I was, uh, awake at the time. Sorry. But I just… I dunno, man, I get worried. I mean, it’s not alright when  _ any  _ of you guys have bad dreams but you and Raph just… never  _ talk  _ about them, you know? …What I mean is,” He reaches out with a hand and, when Don doesn’t flinch away, firmly places it on his brother’s shoulder with a small squeeze, “I’m here if you  _ do _ wanna talk about ‘em. Holding everything in never really helps, y’know.”

He’s stunned for a moment, at a loss for words. He’s still is, after a moment, but it’s combined with sudden  _ annoyance.  _ Not at  _ Mikey _ , no, because Don thinks he should probably be crying and hugging his brother for that or something. Rather, he’s annoyed at himself. What is he supposed to say? To this much utter encouragement and  _ love _ ? It isn’t rare for the family to comfort each other semi-regularly, but he tends to avoid being on the opposing end of it purely out of discomfort.

But he thinks. How does it make his family feel? How actively he can close himself off sometimes, his lack of physical comfort and affection. He’s not a _robot_ , but… would they ever liken him to one? Is he that cold and closed off and _cruel-_

Donnie takes a shuddered breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to block off the stinging sensation. He shrugs his shoulder lightly, and Mikey silently obliges by removing his hand with a perturbed gaze. “You okay, Dee?” He quietly asks.

Is he? Probably. But then, he’s never really been good at assessing that. “Mikey, do you…” His voice nearly hitches, so he forces himself to stop talking, looking away from his brother and pulling his hood back on. To hide his wobbly mouth and glossy eyes and maybe just himself altogether. He certainly wishes he could just crawl into the ground and stop existing for 5 minutes-

“Aw, bro…” There are arms around him now, and against his better judgment he clings to them, almost desperately. Maybe he does need this, just for a moment. “It’s alright, bro. No pressure to talk if you don’t wanna. I won’t pry,” Mikey softly assures him, and Don tucks his face into the crook of the other’s elbow to muffle his hitched breaths, despite the tears already running down his cheeks. He supposes it’s too late to hide these feelings now, so he stops trying as hard.

Minutes pass  _ (maybe 5 maybe 10 maybe 20 who cares anymore),  _ and he lets go of Mikey to quickly wipe his damp face. His brother scoots away a tiny distance and offers him a warm smile for his efforts. “You okay now?” He says gently, maybe too gently but Donnie is  _ far  _ too drained  _ (physically and emotionally, how long has it been?)  _ to care right now.

He shrugs limply and mutters, “Sorry.”  _ ‘For interrupting you while you were drawing, for bothering you at 2 in the morning, for  _ literally  _ crying into your arm,’  _ He doesn’t add.

_ ‘For being such a mess who doesn’t care about his family enough-’ _

“Aw, don’t be sorry, man. I won’t tell~” Mikey says in a sing-song tone, “ _ If that’s fine with you,”  _ He quickly adds in a deliberate stage whisper, getting a chuckle out of his brother. He turns around to check the time on his phone, and slightly blanches at the result. “Yikes. So, uh, it is currently 3 AM, and would you like to spend the night in my humble abode?” Mikey does a small bow, before picking up his sketchbook and resuming his drawing.

Don sighs, and mentally shakes his head at himself. Of course he isn’t big on hugs or pep talks, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still be there for his family. Not starting now, but definitely picking up now.

“Yeah, sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> quick note, my other fic "gross, man." has been put on hold temporarily bc ive completely burnt myself out on it GHSKDGH


End file.
